Not Alone
by BunniesOfDoom
Summary: In the days after the incident in the church, Maka is haunted.
_The church is hauntingly beautiful, with the intricate stained glass windows and tall arches. But Maka has no time to admire it. The strange child rushes towards her, sword raised. She's frozen, pressed up against the doors to the church. She can't block without hurting Soul again, and he's suffered enough for her already. As their enemy swiftly approaches, aiming to kill, Soul appears in front of her, shielding her from the incoming blow. Soul's blood sprays everywhere, and Maka collapses with him, defenseless. She cradles him close, checking for a pulse or breathing, as the pink-haired figure attacks again. Finding no signs of life, her eyes fill with tears, and she screams he grief to the sky as the sword comes down on her—_

Maka wakes up screaming, safe in her bed. She glances around her room wildly, panting and gasping, until she remembers where she is. She lets out a sigh of relief, pressing her hand over her pounding heart in an attempt to slow it. It's still dark outside, no hint of the sunrise yet. She glances and the clock next to her bed and swears softly. It's not even four in the morning yet, and she has no idea how she's going to sleep after that dream.

Once she's calmed down a bit, she turns on the lamp next to her bed and pulls out a book: her usual method for dealing with nightmares. As much as she hates to admit it, with the close calls they have on their missions, she's no stranger to nightmares. This is definitely the closest call they've had, and she can't deny that she's shaken.

Unfortunately, the book doesn't seem to be working, Maka notes after she's read over the same page three times without absorbing a single word. She growls quietly, not wanting to wake Blair, and tosses the book aside. She glances at the alarm clock and sighs in annoyance. It's only 4:15. She takes a final sweep around her bedroom for anything that could distract her, before sighing again and throwing the covers off. She begins to dress as quietly as possible. Soul's never going to let her live this down, if he finds out.

She closes the door to her bedroom softly, spotting Blair fast asleep on the couch, he witch's hat askew. The apartment seems lonely without the sounds of Soul's snoring and the presence of his soul. Maka grabs her coat from where it hangs near the door and pulls it on in an attempt to ward off the chill that seems to rise from the depths of her soul. Her bag hangs next to it, and she glances once more at the sleeping cat on the couch. Silently slipping out the door, she locks it behind her and heads out.

* * *

By the time she arrives at the Academy, the sun is just beginning to rise. Maka knows the main doors won't be open yet, but that's not a problem for her. Having grown up in Death City, she knows the Academy better than any of the other students, with the exception of Blackstar. This makes it easy for her to slip in a side door that she knows will be unlocked.

Safely inside, Maka slips through the hallways, and in a matter of seconds she's outside the infirmary door. She panics for a moment, but when she tests the door she finds it unlocked. She eases it open and is greeted by the sight of Soul, sound asleep in one of the beds. She sighs in relief, making her way over to sit in one of the chairs next to his bed. Almost instinctively, one of her hands shoots out to grasp his like she does when he transforms. The familiar grip is enough to finally chase away the lingering fear from her dream.

Maka doesn't intend to stay long, and she certainly doesn't expect to fall asleep. But she hasn't slept well in the four days since his injury, and she finally feels safe here next to him.

* * *

Soul wakes to bright sunlight streaming through the windows of the infirmary, happy to not be awoken by another strange dream. He notices that his hand is numb, and when he moves to shake it out, he meets resistance. He sits up to see the problem.

He certainly doesn't expect to see Maka, sound asleep in one of the uncomfortable chairs. Her head and chest are resting on the bed next to his legs, and her right hand is clasped around his in a tight grip. He wishes he had a camera; he'd love to preserve this moment.

But he should probably wake her up. Her back is probably killing her, and the last thing he needs is Maka complaining about her back. So he smirks to himself, and with no small amount of amusement, he whispers loudly, "Hey, sleepyhead! Time to stop drooling all over me and wake up!"

Maka starts to stir slightly, but remains unconscious. He calls again, a little louder. "Hey, nerd, if you don't wake up soon you'll be late to class and your perfect attendance record will be ruined."

She finally jerks awake at this, and rubs her eyes with the hand that isn't clamped around his. After staring wildly around the room in confusion, she finally focuses on him. "Oh," she mumbles eloquently. He looks pointedly at their joined hands, until Maka notices and finally releases his hand, blushing furiously and jerking away as though burned. She's got a mark on her face from the creases of the blankets, but he decides not to mention that.

She stands and attempts to fix her hair, grumbling under her breath. As the light hits her face, Soul notices how tired she looks. The dark circles under her eyes are enormous. Maybe he should have left her asleep. Before he can ask, she's grabbing her bag and rushing out of the room. "I'll see you a lunchtime!" she calls over her shoulder, still flushed red with embarrassment.

Soul watches her leave, smiling to himself. He's definitely never going to let her forget this, but maybe he'll wait to tease her until she's a bit less shaken up. After all, her concern is pretty cute.


End file.
